


fine work from a sailor's hand

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, I'm a heathen, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Non-Asexual Jughead, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 09:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10241960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Delicate, breathless, Archie seeks a repeat performance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> as is my trademark, here is some purely unrepentant porn. like it says in the tags, this does not feature asexual jughead; it can be interpreted as demisexual, or just allosexual--your choice, as a reader.
> 
> anywho, enjoy!

It’s a soft noise, barely there, wrapped up in their kiss and practically swallowed whole by Archie’s own eagerness. He nearly misses it— _nearly_ , but not quite.

Delicate, breathless, Archie seeks a repeat performance.

Slowly he draws his hand across Jughead’s exposed neck, and is rewarded with the same noise. Still muffled and quiet, but undeniable. Just to be sure, Archie does it again; he presses against Jughead’s neck, his touch light and pressure gentle. Once more, the same sweet noise slips from Jughead.

Archie finally breaks the kiss and grins down at his boyfriend.

“Don’t.” Jughead chides. His cheeks are pink and his lips are kiss-swollen and his eyes are narrowed in a glare that’s betrayed by the shyness in the blue iris.

“Jug.” Archie leans back. He lets his hand fall from Jughead’s neck and he sits back.

“It’s—it’s nothing, okay? Just. Leave it be.” Jughead knots his hands in the front of Archie’s shirt and hauls him close.

“Jughead, c’mon, don’t… what’s wrong?” Archie doesn’t give in, doesn’t fall forward back into Jughead’s arms. “Talk to me.”

Jughead groans. He lets go of Archie fast, falls back onto the bed and covers his face with his hands. Words stifled by his palms, he quietly replies. “It’s weird.”

“No, it’s not, c’mon,” Archie urges.

“It’s _weird_ ,” Jughead insists.

“No.” Archie finally reaches out hand out to uncover Jughead’s face. He links fingers with Jughead, rubs his thumb gently against Jug’s knuckles. “Talk to me.”

“It’s—I like the feeling of your hand there, okay?”

“Okay.” Archie tilts his head.

“And… you could put more pressure on it, and I’d like that too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“Jughead, I—I don’t know what you want from me. I’m not going to totally choke you out, but.” Archie gulps. “But if you want me to, y’know, very carefully obstruct your breathing… that’s not _weird_.”

“How is that not weird?” Jughead sits up with a frown. “It’s _very_ weird.”

Archie doesn’t sigh and doesn’t roll his eyes. He speaks evenly. “I know porn isn’t really your thing, Jug, but what you want? Hardly the weirdest thing out there.”

“That both helps and doesn’t help.” Jughead looks a little green around the gills, and Archie can only imagine what Jughead is picturing as weirder than erotic asphyxiation.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m not going to pressure you into it, okay?”

Jughead nods.

“I think you sounded _amazing_ when I was touching you like that, and I’d like to explore that further, if you want to.”

Jughead shrugs.

“Let me know if you ever want to do that, alright? Until then, we can leave it be.” Archie doesn’t lean in for another kiss. He waits.

Jughead reaches out for Archie’s hand again; he doesn’t link their fingers. Instead, he brings it up to his neck. Jughead tilts his head back and fits Archie’s fingers around his throat. When he swallows, nervous, Archie can feel it against his palm. Jughead nods minutely again and lets go of Archie’s hand.

“I love you,” Archie murmurs as he leans forward. He guides Jughead onto his back again and moves in for another soft kiss. At first, he doesn’t apply any pressure with his hand. He kisses slow and deep, licking into Jughead’s mouth until his boyfriend is lax and pliant under him. When Jughead is breathing just this side of heavily, eagerly, Archie starts.

He pushes just enough to remind Jughead of his touch; he grips, nails biting into the flesh of Jug’s neck, until he earns a keen. Archie shifts and raises his body off the bed just enough to rearrange so that he can slot one leg between Jughead’s thighs. He pushes forward against Jughead’s groin and in the same moment tightens his grip on Jug’s neck—and gets a choked off, pitchy gasp as a reward.

A thought strikes him, and he pulls back. Jughead’s responding moan is curious, unsure.

“You need a way to say no.”

Realization slowly dawns on Jughead’s face. “Yeah, yeah.” His voice comes out in a rasp. “Uh, three taps, on your shoulder. Would that work?”

Archie nods. “If I don’t get the memo, just, y’know, knee me in the side or something.”

Jughead’s laugh is thin and his eyes are wide, dilated, pulling Archie in. “I can do that,” he agrees. He wraps a hand around the back of Archie’s neck and tugs him closer. “Please.” The plea comes out soft, eager.

So Archie complies. He pushes forward again with his whole body; his knee presses against Jughead’s hardening cock, and the palm of his hand presses against Jughead’s windpipe. The reaction is immediate: Jughead arches up to meet him with moans spilling from his lips tight and cut-off. A flush floods his face and his lips move but sounds barely slip out, each one more quiet than the last.

Archie relents his grip. Jughead gasps for air and closes his eyes.

“Holy shit,” Jughead whispers. He swallows, and again his throat bobs under Archie’s hand. “Please, more.”

Archie leans forward and steals a breathless kiss from Jughead; as he pulls back he puts more force into his touch, into the pressure weighing on Jughead’s neck. In response, Jughead writhes under the onslaught. He grinds against Archie’s leg and his body winds tighter and tighter with pleasure.

“Are you close?” Archie murmurs as he flexes his fingers. It offers Jughead a brief reprieve, a dizzying rush of oxygen before the luxury is cut off again. “Will you come from this?”

The hand not curled around the nape of Archie’s neck comes up quick, covers Archie’s own hand. Jughead adds pressure, forces Archie to really stress his breathing. Archie lets himself be guided and gives in to the urge to squeeze harder. Jughead moans suddenly, and his hips still, and his lips fall open in a perfect ‘o’ shape as his whole body goes taut.

Archie doesn’t move as Jughead ruts against him a few last times, the single burst of a moan dwindling to a million tiny noises. Jughead never looks away from him, never closes his eyes.

Slowly, Archie retracts his hand. Jughead’s neck is red and Archie traces the skin with a single fingertip.

Jughead’s chest is heaving. His breathing is loud and scratch and his expression is dopey, dazed.

“Good?” Archie hums as he peppers kisses across Jughead’s cheeks.

“Yeah.” Jughead finally looks away and his gaze slips down to where Archie’s own prick is still stiff, making a scene even under the stuff denim of his jeans. “You’re still—?”

“We got time.” Archie finds Jughead’s lips and silences him with a kiss. “You catch your breath, I can wait.”

Jughead smiles at him. His hand slides from Archie’s neck up to knot in his mussed red hair. He curls his fingers in the locks tight and revels in Archie’s own hitched gasp in response. “C’mon,” he goads. He kisses Archie chaste and fleeting. His chest is still rapidly rising and falling, breath still not caught, but Archie knows that glint in his boyfriend’s eyes—he knows the challenge simmering there all too well. He kisses Archie chaste and fleeting. His chest is still rapidly rising and falling, breath still not caught, but Archie knows that glint in his boyfriend’s eyes—he knows the challenge simmering there all too well.

Jughead smirks, and Archie can’t resist any longer.


End file.
